From Son to Father
By John Herlihy

I
One night not long before bedtime
The quiet son approached his loving father
With questions that had long been on his mind.
Questions he could not ask mother or brother,
They were too enigmatic an answer to discover,
Questions that only a father could truly uncover.

II
“Why does the sun rise in the East,” the son asked in earnest?
“Because East is the right hand of the world,” the father replied.
“Why does the moon appear in stages,” the boy said in wonder?
The father sighed as if wishing to cast the moon asunder.
“The moon reminds us,” the father said, “that we are human.
We too grow throughout our lives in cycles and stages,
From nothing to fullness and then back nothing once again
Our destiny a book that moves forward as we turn the pages.”

III
“Why does the day disappear without saying goodbye.”
The father looked kindly upon his son before making reply.
“The sun disappears below the horizon for a little while,
Giving time for the darkness to make itself known in style.”
The son glanced around the room as if looking for a ghost
As if the room had been whitened over and covered in frost.
“The sun comes back with the coming of day,” the father went on,
“Shoving darkness back into its sack with nothing further to say.”

IV
The thought of frost reminded the inquisitive child of winter,
That kept coming back once a year like an irritating splinter.
“Why can’t we have spring and summer all year round,
Why do autumn leaves have to die and fall lazily to the ground?”
The father looked into his son’s eyes as if searching for an answer,
Then looked into the distance with the graciousness of a dancer.
“You are not to worry unduly about something as simple as this.
From the cold of winter’s ice is born the flower of summer’s bliss.

V
Finally, the child took in the sight of the father to his fullest extent,
As though digging deep into the ground to unearth his sincere intent.
“When I grow up to be your age now, you should be a hundred years old
You may no longer be around to give me guidance and help me be bold.”
The aging father gathered the sight of his son into his tear-filled eyes,
With an emotion that could shatter to pieces any attempt to be wise
I will be with you in your mind and heart wherever you are
I will watch you live out your life by the light of a distant star.”

VI
In truth, the father felt uncomfortable with his earnest answers;
The child for his part sat back as though being squeezed by pincers.
Age has a way of forgetting the sweet mystery that surrounds youth,
While youth for its part knows nothing of the dark mystery of age.
The son will always sow the field of the father with probing questions;
The father will always plant the soul ground of his son with seeds of discretion.